Meanderings

Settling in to this new chapter, Dominic and I are never sure what to expect. We are on day 55 post transplant. It feels really good to be heading down hill.

We have daily discussions about how he's getting his strength back, how surprising all of this has been and how for the rest of our lives, we will be on high alert.

He is doing really well. We do get our hopes up that we'll be released to home before 100 days, and then try and just be in the moment.
We try and walk outside every day. We walk through the neighborhood and zig zag up and down different streets so I can look at different houses. Occasionally, we see a kitty, and I stop and will them to come to me. They look at me with barely curiosity and start grooming or run away. Dogs are all on leashes, and I tell them how handsome they are, but their owners never stop, I think because they see Dom masked up and it's awkward.
 Yesterday, we drove to another nearby neighborhood where every house could be in a movie. (Or a Thomas Kinkade painting. I like even those houses, much to Dom's dismay.) There were no for sale signs, and I suspect that once you arrive in this neighborhood, you don't leave.

I marvel at the amount of trash we produce (as well as dirty dishes). With our strict dietary guidelines, we're using a lot of single use packaging. It kills my tree hugging heart, but it's only for now.
Urban living is quite new to me. I've been so sheltered on my hillside for so many years. We park in an alley and there is very nearly every time someone out there digging through the trash. Dom is drinking a lot of bottled water, so I thought I'd do our outdoor neighbors a favor and put all monetary recyclables in a trash bag separately. I put it right on top feeling almost like I'd left this nice gift. (How twisted is that?) The next day, I noticed not only did they take the bag with all the bottles. They also took the bag that held all the non-monetary recyclables, and left those things in the yard waste bin. Then, I noticed a box label that one of Dom's prescriptions had come in, lying on the ground, and rational or not, I felt violated. I usually tear his name off prescription bottles and boxes and crumble the labels up into the stinky trash. I don't know. Something about his name and condition lying in the dirt got to me.

Dominic is feeling so much better, that some days, he makes his breakfast, or dinner for both of us. The prednisone to combat graft vs host disease has him eating like a bottomless pit. We were warned that many people have difficulty with appetite during this phase of treatment, and struggle to get calories, so I'm encouraging the current eating status.
We watch everyone at the infusion center. We note everything. Who is eating, who is coming in in a wheelchair, who gets in a chair, immediately reclines, gets a blanket and sleeps. We note that some people look really well. We talk with one of the patients who lived next door to us in the hospital and encourage one another. We know she was cut down to 3 visits a week and then bumped back to 7 due to a complication. We know that could happen to us too. We hope not, but the knowledge keeps us from complete relaxation.

But, we are trying to relax into this. Dom has the football on his phone right now, and is editing some images on the desktop. He's so eager to get back behind the camera. I'm eager to get home and tackle some of the clean up around the ranch to make it a little safer should there be another crazy fire next summer. But, while we're here, we watch a lot of Netflix. I'm able to work remotely, and while I'm in no way earning the big bucks, I'm happy I can stay on top of things. I had a conference call last week with someone from Canada and Dominic and I were both impressed with his way of navigating some at times challenging communication. Oh Canada. Wishing I still had relatives living there.

We're thinking that Dom is feeling well enough that we may start exploring a little more, as we did yesterday walking in a different neighborhood. This flu thing hitting everyone has us very wary. I was feeling really good about our hygiene. We wash and sanitize all the time. Now it seems, that is not even enough. I just read this flu may be spread just by breathing in someone's germy breath. Ugh. I'm contemplating wearing a mask when I go shopping. I've shot a lot of scornful looks lately. I finally broke down and got a flu shot. It was a huge and complicated decision for me. As I filled out the paperwork, I asked a couple questions. The pharmacists mistook my hesitancy for fear of the needle. While having a needle shoved in my arm is not my favorite thing, that really was the least of my worries. I shared with them that if my husband could endure 7 months of chemo and lumbar punctures and bone marrow biopsies, I could handle a little needle. It's what's in the needle....which, incidentally, I broke a needle getting booster shots when I was about 5 years old. I was so tensed up, I flexed an arm muscle and that was that.

Mean while, Dom's beard is growing in fast and furious! He has had to shave several times. His eyebrows are nearly in. He is at a stage where they're a little wild. (Shhh....don't tell him they were a little wild before all this happened.)